(continued from Part XXVIII | Act I | Act II | continues at hermajestytheprince.com)
The princess walked a lonely path, shadow stretching far behind, an invitation in her wake... for a wand'ring beast to find. But fear was nowhere to be felt, danger nowhere to be seen, for who had been hot on her trail? Captain Le Loup, senses keen.
Among the drapes and tapestries, safe from any errant peek, she could entrust her hand to his—knight and princess, cheek to cheek.
Her breath held still as his went hot, nothing keeping them apart. Her cause had drawn him close to her; closer even to her heart.
He parted fabric with his touch, nimble hand in armored cuff; obeying every breathless word, fingers questing t'wards—
"ENOUGH!"
Lou pulled her half-opened bodice back together as she turned to the side, staring flustered daggers at the costume rack nearest to her. The tent was full of them, draped with clothing pulled from the travel chests lying open on the floor. All that fabric worked wonders to muffle sounds, making this particular nook of the Shepherd's Troupe a popular choice for those desiring a little privacy, even this early in the day.
Libellule peeked her head through a gap between the robes, disguising her mirth with a mock pout. "Aw, don't you like my lines? I never get to be in the chorus, let me enjoy this a bit longer!"
Roy let out a deep rumbling guffaw. His hands now unoccupied, he casually rested his elbow on the rod of another nearby clothes rack, bringing the three of them into a loose huddle. "I'm sure you can sweet-talk ol' Alphonse into it one of these days, Lule."
"But then where would that leave you?" Libellule replied, her grin returning as she turned her eyes to Lou. "Wouldn't be fair to leave princess here in your hands alone."
"Y'know what, you're right," Roy said, mirroring his co-star. "I reckon we ought to share."
Lou couldn't breathe.
She took a wobbly step back, her hand scrambling for the rack's support rod as she maintained her precarious balance.
"You alright there, Lou?" Libellule asked, her tone a mix of playfulness and care. "We can stop if you're not into it."
Roy began to back off, giving Lou some space. "No pressure, yeah? If you don't want—"
Lou grabbed one of the open sides of his shirt.
He stopped and remained still, her unsteady hand keeping him in place.
"I do," she said, finally managing a heaving breath. "I want to. It's just... I..."
She trailed off, mouthing words but saying none of them. She maintained her grip with trembling fingers, her knuckles turning white.
All the weeks of countless rehearsals and preparations had taken their toll, and not even last night's premiere had been up to the task of releasing all this pent-up tension. Moments earlier, the excitement in the air had been palpable; but now, there was no denying that something was holding Lou back.
"Still thinking about him, huh?" Libellule asked gently, retreating from under the costume rack so she could lean on top of it, arms crossed.
Roy brought a hand to his shirt, right where Lou held it, and gently wrapped his fingers around hers. He tilted his head down to look into her eyes. "He doesn't deserve all this room you keep making for him."
Lou sighed. Of course they could tell. Despite her best efforts, it must have been written all over her face. She could feel her brow furrow in pain, helpless to stop it. She turned away from the two of them, her gaze wandering across the sea of dull golden fabric before landing on a striking outfit of brilliant blue: the coronation dress, from that climactic scene the night before. It had been the first time Lou had worn it in front of an audience; she would wear it again tonight. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear the applause. She could still feel the bliss of her very first time.
"You don't understand what we have—" she began to say, pausing to untangle the knot that had begun forming deep inside her chest. "What we had. It wasn't like your rhyme. We just... knew each other so well. No secrets. No need to say anything. He knew my body better than anyone else." She ran a hand down the sleeve of the dress, the tip of her fingers feeling every bump in the sewn pattern, as she struggled in vain to keep the anguish at bay. "His was the only body I knew anything about."
Lou expected her words to be met with grumbling, an insulted scoff, or perhaps nothing at all. Instead, all she heard was laughter. She looked up in surprise.
"Lou, you don't have to know everything. You don't have to know anything!" Libellule said, her face glowing with the sweetest smile. "That's not required."
"But I... it's not?"
"It sure ain't!" Roy said with a guffaw. He shot Libellule a conspiratorial glance. "Matter of fact, finding out's one of the best parts."
Lou stood there, stunned, feeling the tension leave her face; feeling the heat return to it. Without her realizing it, her heart had started racing again. She looked from one to the other and back again, moving her lips, trying to find the words. "But... there's still so much I don't... so much that you don't..."
Roy bent down on one knee, his eyes level with Lou's chin. "You've been filling us in on more details than I can count for how long now? And captain of the royal guard for how many years before that?" He leaned forward with a wide toothy grin. "You can teach, can't you?"
Lou felt Libellule's slender arms snaking their way around her. She hadn't even realized the taller actress had moved from her spot behind the costume rack. Despite the blood pounding in her ears, Lou heard her co-star's words loud and clear.
"And we can learn."
The door opened. Alphonse barged in, noisily shuffling the stack of papers in his hands.
Lou awoke with a loud gasp as the playwright's sudden entrance shook her free from her dream. Everything caught up with her at once. The wagon, slowly rolling along the road. The well-worn canvas roof, its every rip and tear covered up with brightly-colored overlapping patches; the largest one made into a flap, left open to the stars. The costumes, boxed up and stacked in a big pile, save for the more precious ones kept on display. The thick rugs and blankets, spread out over the remaining space. Brie, splayed out and fast asleep. Libellule and Roy, lounging around her, their legs lazily intertwined with her own.
No sooner had Lou sat up than soft arms wrapped themselves around her from behind, easing her back down into the cushiest of embraces. "Shh, it's okay," Chiffon said softly, her smile evident in her tone. "Did you sleep well?"
"Can't imagine she didn't," Roy said with a laugh before taking a swig from a small metal container. "Didn't even wake up when I came in."
"She does have the best seat in the house, doesn't she?" Libellule added, her hand gently gliding across the fabric of Lou's dress as she retrieved her flask from Roy to drink from it herself.
"Certain!" Roy grinned, his teeth almost sparkling in the meager moonlight that filtered down from above. "Alas, there ain't much either of us can offer that'll rival Rita's bountiful—"
"No whining!" Chiffon teased with a possessive squeeze of Lou's midsection. "You had her for two years! I've got a lot of catching up to do."
"And here you are!" Alphonse announced as he cheerfully shoved a handful of papers into Roy's hands. Libellule wordlessly leaned over to follow along with him, resting her arm on Lou's thigh.
Alphonse turned to Chiffon and Lou, holding the last bundle of pages. "Ah, I do not have that many copies."
Chiffon cheerfully accepted the loosely-collected document. "That's okay! We can share," she replied with a smile, her free hand holding onto Lou just a little bit more tightly.
Lou tried to focus on the writing on the page, still groggy from her nap; heart still pounding from... from what, again?
"Your face is looking mighty red there, Lil' Lou," Roy said.
"Pleasant dreams, I hope?" Libellule added with a sly smile.
"S-something like that!" Lou quickly replied as the specifics of it came rushing back.
Alphonse pulled a cushion over and plopped it down on the last remaining free patch of the blanket pile over by Roy and Brie, sitting cross-legged atop it. With five blankets for the six of them, avoiding physical contact was almost impossible, but if the playwright minded at all he didn't show it. He went to grab a treat from one of his pockets, then—upon seeing that Brie was still fast asleep—carefully pulled his empty fingers back. He instead smoothed out the pages in his lap, barely holding back his excitement as he turned to the rest of the assembled group.
"Ahh, I have been looking forward to this for so long! I do not have a title for this one yet, but, you know. There is still plenty of time." Alphonse quickly tidied himself up—straightening the collar of his weathered sea captain's jacket, adjusting his frizzy black curls with a hand—before clearing his throat and turning to the first page. "Are we ready to begin?"
"Hold on," Roy said as he disentangled himself from his fellow troupe members and got to his feet. "I'm gonna give us a lil' more light. Moon ain't cutting it tonight."
"Thanks Roy!" Chiffon tapped a book lying on the floor next to her. "More light would be great, I had to give up on my own reading earlier."
Alphonse squinted as he brought the page right up to his face. "Ah, you are right. Suspense! My old nemesis."
Lou looked up through the large flap in the canvas roof, then back down to the base of the wagon wall, over in the back corner, where she'd put the thin black leather portmanteau. In the meager light of the crescent moon, it was almost invisible. She could just as easily have left it by her bunk, but she didn't want to let that case out of her sight. The new moon had come and gone since Sleeves had left it with her, as empty then as it still felt now. They were late.
Had the promise of a gift been a lie? Or perhaps, had something happened to delay them on the Prince's meticulously organized path from royalty to republic? Things clearly hadn't gone according to plan after she'd caught up with him on the balcony, despite Sleeves's attempts to downplay it. An uneasy feeling had taken residence in the pit of her stomach, one that she didn't dare look in the eye. If they were indeed late... was it because of her?
No.
Lou couldn't go down this road again. Maybe this was a simple misunderstanding. She racked her brains, going over what she remembered of the instructions again and again. Don't open it until the next new moon. Did that mean the one that had just passed, or the one after that? If the latter, then why not just say 'in two moons' to avoid confusion? Maybe they were late after all, but for a different reason. Maybe the dress they'd mentioned was taking longer—
"So Alphonse, what's this one about?" Chiffon asked as Roy went about the wagon collecting the strings of fading witchsilver that hung from the walls.
The playwright grinned as the light dwindled down to only what the sliver of moon and stars could give. "It is about..." He raised one hand and lowered the other. "Above and below."
"Ooh, another play about the gods!" Chiffon said, wiggling in place; making Lou sway side to side along with her. "I was hoping I'd come back to you putting on one of those! They always make for the best songs. And the best costumes!"
"And what costumes we have planned! I will bring the sketches next time, when the rest of the chorus is free. But yes, gods! Gods and people, actually." Alphonse's eyes practically glimmered in the faint moonlight. He leaned forward, his tone becoming hushed. "The Ice Huntress is forced to take human form... and during her struggles, she falls in love."
Lou felt as much as heard Chiffon's gasp upon hearing the magic word. Alphonse knew his troupe members so well.
"Oh, I'm even more excited now! Who turns her human? Is it another one of Rose-Mère's lessons?"
Alphonse scratched the closely-shaven patch of hair between his ears as he let out an awkward chuckle. "Ah, yes, you are right... though I am open to suggestions. It does not feel very original. Lou suggested the other day that it could be about S'Candit atoning for something she did instead, and I like that very much."
Lou couldn't help but smile. Becoming involved creatively with a work like this wasn't something she'd ever considered before, but the more she heard about this story, the more intense the feelings it brought out. She was grateful Alphonse had been so welcoming. Getting to contribute part of herself to the process didn't just feel good; it felt right.
The playwright was deep in thought as he gently petted the sleeping Brie at his feet, his fingers sifting through the dog's long and luxurious brown fur. "In this case, it should be someone other than Rose-Mère. Who could do it? Sernin-aux-Tonneaux? Maybe a mortal appeals to his sense of justice. They would not be the first." He tilted his head. "But why would the Branch and Blade listen this time? The audience... they might not believe it."
"A witch could do it," Libellule said as she looked up at the sliver of a moon. "Few gods would ignore a last request, born of loss and grief."
"Can witches really do that?" Chiffon asked.
"Witches are part of nature, and so are the gods below. That kind of connection only grows with age, in one way or another, manifesting in ways that get harder and harder to ignore until the very end. If a year's training can mend wounds and a decade of knowledge can melt stone, then..." Libellule smiled. "The dying wish of a witch can accomplish miracles."
There was a moment of silence as everyone took in the actress's words. Lou had not yet gotten used to just how easily her colleague could capture her audience's attention. Sometimes more than that.
"I was hoping this would be a romance," Chiffon said with a slight pout, "but it's starting to sound more like a tragedy."
Roy returned to the back half of the wagon—in what little open space there was—bundle of witchsilver strings in hand. He stretched the whole thing taught, then began spinning it. "Now I love a little romance, but S'Candit sent her share of people to Dix-Parent. If she becomes mortal again, you can bet tragedy's gonna be on the menu instead." He grinned as he spun the bundle faster and faster, swaying side to side in a casual rhythm. "But sometimes the two ain't that far apart."
"Exactly!" Alphonse said, smiling widely. "Sometimes they're the same."
The faint circular trails of light slowly grew in intensity as Roy upped the cadence of his dance, the strung slivers of metal slowly but surely waking from their slumber. While he was nowhere near as graceful as the village grandmothers, there was an unmistakable touch of Beaver Lake technique in the actor's movements; enough to give Lou a slight pang of nostalgia for the bygone days of seasonal festivals and celebrations. Perhaps the Shepherd's Troupe would travel further north one of these days during the warmer months. There were faces there that Lou hadn't seen in years. Decades, even.
Perhaps time enough that she could risk showing her own face there again. Such as it was now.
The entire wagon lurched forward with a groan as the Shepherd's Troupe came to a sudden stop, causing everyone to sway in place as they steadied themselves. Everyone save for Roy, who used the momentum to turn a step into a full hop and keep his dance going uninterrupted.
"I thought we still had a day or two left?" Chiffon said, a bit confused.
"That is right," Alphonse replied, a hint of concern on his voice. He hopped to his feet at once, walking over to the window to take a peek. "There is an inn on this road. Perhaps Thévenin decided we should repair that wheel on the cold car sooner rather than later?" His eyes still on the window, he then quickly moved to the end of the wagon, reaching inside his jacket with one hand as he opened the door and stepped outside.
Lou didn't even have time to form a single worried thought before Alphonse came barging right back in, a broad smile on his face.
"A royal messenger at the inn! No wonder we have stopped. I will go get the news." He snapped his fingers. "Rita, you wanted to see the costumes, did you not? I shall fetch the sketches from my wagon on the way back. With Françoise's new techniques, we will finally do the gods justice! Half of them, at least." With that, the playwright was off.
Meanwhile, Roy had been carrying on his dance. While the bundle of witchsilver was glowing brighter than when he'd begun, he wasn't quite done yet. The process of turning motion into light took quite some time; Lou remembered her endless fascination with the treated metal when she was young. How bright it could glow once it had turned all that stored energy into light, and how lengthy that transformation could be. Even after everything had been done and every effort had been taken, sometimes the final ingredient was patience. Some changes not even the gods could hurry.
With a thunderous exhale, Roy brought his motion to a stop, eliciting applause from the rest of the group. He shifted the bundle from one hand to the other, pulling the individual strings apart and handing them off to Libellule, who had joined him. Soon all four of them were on their feet, hanging the strings of light up on the walls of the wagon. Sometimes Roy would give Lou a boost, raising her up with firm hands so she could reach the ceiling; other times Libellule would lean down as she walked by, stealing a kiss.
Lou paused as she put up her final bit of string, focusing on a single sliver of metal; watching it glow brighter with each passing moment. With any luck, once Alphonse came back there would be enough light for comfortable reading.
A stray thought popped into Lou's head as she and Chiffon returned to the pile of rugs, their task complete. She sat down, searching for the right words, as part of her wouldn't let her think about anything else until this particular doubt was squarely dispelled. "Did you refill the bottles?"
"Of course!" Chiffon's answer was immediate and chipper.
"Mm." That answer ought to have been enough, but Lou's worry had merely been displaced to the next item in the list. "Is everyone tucked in? It's just that... Edmée's youngest tends to push away the covers, so—" Lou stopped, interrupted by a hand affectionately ruffling her hair.
"The little ones are doing just fine, don't worry!" Chiffon said with a smile as she sat down next to her. "Lin took over for me earlier, she'll be with them all night. We used to trade shifts all the time before I went to work at the castle. She even taught me how to make some of her remedies!"
Lou returned a weak smile. "Sorry. I forget you've done this before."
"Longer than you have!" Chiffon elbowed her playfully. "Lou, it's really lovely how much you care. But you can count on me! I remember these kids and most of them remember me. It's like I never left! Well, aside from the new faces. And how big everyone's gotten." Chiffon picked up the book she'd put aside and opened it up, angling it to catch the light, possibly in the hopes of sneaking in another chapter before Alphonse returned.
"I'm really glad to hear... where'd you get that?" Lou asked suddenly.
"Alphonse mentioned he wanted some books from the royal library, so I borrowed a few! He's letting me read this one first." Chiffon smiled with her eyes shut tight, the way she always did when she was feeling playful. "You'll never guess who the author is!"
"I... I know," Lou answered, her voice catching in her throat ever so slightly. "I was there when he wrote it. When he wrote all of them. I remember how he... how the first copies were bound."
"You got the Prince's books!" Libellule said as she returned to the rugs, cozying up to them both. "Alphonse has been wanting to read those for ages. I didn't know you were into political theory, Rita." She squinted at the cover. "Wait, does that say... Sappy Syrups?"
"From Gathering to Gastronomy!" Chiffon beamed. "I suppose His Majesty enjoys the occasional passing fancy."
"They don't always pass," Lou added quietly. "Sometimes he still cares, it's just... hard to see."
Chiffon's smile instantly faded. "Oh. Oh Lou, I'm so sor—" she began to say, cutting herself off as she shot a wide-eyed glance first at Libellule, then at Roy who plopped down onto an unclaimed part of the rug pile at the group's feet, next to the sleeping Brie.
That's right, Lou thought to herself, this is the first time the four of us have had some real privacy together, isn't it. She looked at Chiffon; leaned into her a bit, in a gesture halfway between reassurance and affection. "It's okay. They know."
"They... do?" Chiffon asked, her face dead serious. "How much of it?" she whispered.
"All of it," Lou replied, managing a smile. She shot the wagon door a glance, just on the odd chance that Alphonse had returned, but the playwright was nowhere to be seen. "We've been, ah... very close."
"Oh, was that what you were dreaming about earlier?" Libellule asked with a grin that made the blood rush back to Lou's face. "That morning?"
"W-well... it... it was a really memorable morning."
"Which morning are we talking about now?" Roy asked, then broke out into a grin once he got a good look at Lou. "Ohh, the morning after the premiere! Serious? You're still dreaming about it? We've had plenty of—"
"It was a really memorable morning!" Lou repeated, wanting nothing more than to escape this conversation by burying her face into Chiffon's cushy embrace... though that would probably only add fuel to the fire. Her face was burning plenty hot already.
"I'm not gonna lie, I'm still a little jealous you remember your dreams so vividly!" Libellule shifted positions, propping herself up on Roy's chest with an elbow. "I always end up forgetting mine the moment I wake up."
"I'm fine leaving my dreams to Saint-Oubli," Roy said as he put an arm around Libellule's waist. "Lil' Lou's been having plenty of 'em for all of us lately. Jehan giving you the spicy stuff again?"
"Oh, she used to get them back at the castle too!" Chiffon said before Lou could reply. "It made for fun conversation when our shifts lined up."
Libellule smiled, but quickly furrowed her brow as she began to visibly ponder something. "Hey Rita... how did you two meet again? I thought—"
The actress suddenly went silent as Brie shot up from his slumber in a flurry of brown fur, standing alert with ears perked. The guardian of the Shepherd's Troupe directed a low growl at the empty corner of the wagon, over by the back door.
Lou breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the diversion. Roy and Libellule didn't quite know all of it, as it turned out.
"What's up, big fella?" Roy asked, turning to see. "Ain't nothing over there. D'you spot a ghost or something?"
While the rest of her colleagues were perplexed, Lou instantly recognized the target of the sheepdog's attention: Sleeves's thin black case, leaning against the wall, becoming more and more visible as the witchsilver lights gained in intensity with each passing moment. Lou could've sworn it had been standing upright when she'd left it there earlier. She gently extricated herself from Chiffon's embrace and walked over to the corner, keeping her eyes squarely on the portmanteau the whole time. She reached out to the handle, wrapped her fingers around it tightly, and lifted.
Lou felt the contents within shift. The case was no longer empty; Sleeves had delivered on their promise. She had been right. They had been late. But she couldn't find any relief in the pit of her stomach—only worry laced with foreboding. She had to make sure.
— end of preview
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